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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806664">To Be Goode</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloetheclarinet/pseuds/cloetheclarinet'>cloetheclarinet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Zachs POV [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Circle of Cavan, F/M, Love, Romance, blackthorne - Freeform, gallagher - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:07:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloetheclarinet/pseuds/cloetheclarinet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach has been staying at Joe's Cabin after Agent Cameron gets shot. Joe and him spend the summer together attempting to bring down the circle, but Joe ends up on the run from the CIA, his past out to get him. Determined to save both Joe and Cammie he's on the run once more until all his secrets are revealed. OGSY in Zach's POV. Mainbook # 3 Zach's POV series.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zachary Goode/Cameron Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Zachs POV [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Gallagher girls recs</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Okay y'all know the drill. I have two other books that you need to read before you read this one.</p><p>And if you haven't read the Gallagher girls recently I recommend doing that too. (And if you don't have the books I <em>totally don't have online pdf versions you can message me and I'll send you the link for them. Cough)</em></p><p>I hope you enjoy my version of OGSY :D</p><p>(also In case you're wondering WHY IN THE HELL I DIDN'T NAME THIS ONE ONLY THE GOODE SPY YOUNG IT'S BECAUSE I'M USING THAT TITLE LATER :D.)</p><p> </p><p>-Cloe Talplacido</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joe had taken me to a little run down shack overviewing a lake. It was in the middle of a densely wooded forest, evergreens flanking us on all sides. </p><p>"Are you sure this place is safe?" I asked</p><p>"It better be." He retorted, as if he'd said this a million times. "I own it."</p><p>I looked around the place with a newfound interest. Cameras were EVERYWHERE. On the trees, in the rocks. I'm pretty sure there was a camera disguised as a bird (although I can't be sure.) Invisible tripwires laced the ground, and the whole place was completely off the grid, relying on solar energy to power it. <br/><br/>It was a spies paradise. </p><p>I looked out towards the lake, watching the setting sun turn it gold. It was beautiful</p><p>"It's perfect." I tell him. He leads me into the cabin explaining different aspects of it. "These curtains were handmade by a friend in Kuala Lumpur." he told me. " This place is technically owned by one of my alias. But he's not home much." Joe smirks. "He works in offshore drilling." As he goes on about the other aspects of the house (He own the coolest first aid kit <em>ever.) </em>I gave myself the chance to study everything in the room from the location of the furniture to the titles of the books on the shelves. </p><p>My eyes fell upon a little bag in the corner. "Cat food?" I asked looking at him.</p><p>"Ah... yes. That was for fluffy."</p><p>"Who's fluffy?"</p><p>He looked at me, dead in the eyes and whispered. "The spawn of Satan."</p><p>I bust up laughing, but Joe doesn't join in. Instead he fixates on a point in the wall and begins talking, in the story-telling voice I knew so well. </p><p>"She was apart of a cover I had, but I gave her back to the CIA when I went to the Gallagher Academy. I hated that thing. It would hiss and scratch me. I almost lost track of her one time while I was tailing an agent through Buenos Aires. I looked away for one second and the cat was gone. So I had to go and look for her and then I lost the tail."</p><p>"Wow!" I exclaimed "Then what happened?"</p><p>"Well I chucked the damned thing off the balcony. But, mind you it's a cat so it's practically made of steel. You couldn't break that thing if you tried. Anyways, it landed upright on the ground, and when I went to go and get her, she was spitting mad at something in the distance. I looked into the shop window and I saw the reflection of the man I'd been tailing all afternoon."</p><p>"And then?"</p><p>He smiles. "That's classified."</p><p>I groan. </p><p>Joe puts on an apron and starts cooking dinner, frying some bacon and eggs. We eat outside, and I tell him all about my time during the summer. It feels good to talk to Joe like this again. Like I have a dad. </p><p>Joe gives me the bed, and he sleeps on the couch. As I fall asleep, all I can think of is Cammie. </p><p>I wondered if she could ever forgive me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys! I'm glad you're reading this! Please leave any suggestions below and don't forget to bookmark this so you never miss a chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joe woke me up before dawn.</p><p>"Zach. Up. Now."</p><p>I opened my eyes groggily, my internal clock telling me it was just about 4am. I shot up in bed. "Joe? Is everything okay? What's going-"</p><p>I'm cut off by Joe laughing. "Zach, everything's fine. You didn't think I'd let you off the hook from training did you?"</p><p>I groan. "But Joeeeee it's <em>vacation."</em></p><p><em>"</em>Blackthorne doesn't <em>have </em>a vacation." he reminded me.</p><p>"But I'm not AT Blackthorne" I shot back.</p><p>He gave me a stern glance. "You could be."</p><p>Needless to say I got up pretty quickly after that.</p><p>Outside the cool, crisp air hit my face, turning my nose red and my breath to steam. It was snowing, the first snow of the year. It wasn't a lot, but it was piling up pretty rapidly. Joe lead the way through the forest, dodging trip wires and hidden traps, making his way towards some unknown destination. </p><p>Even with the increasing altitude, and hard run, I felt free. Like I could keep running forever, and nothing could stop me. Perhaps it was just teenage invincibility. Or maybe it was something more.</p><p>Joe opened his mouth to speak his voice, although soft, was strong and cut through the silence like a knife. " When I first came to the Blackthorne institute, I was just like all of you boys. I had no place to go." </p><p>I looked up at him. He'd never offered up much in the way of his past before. "My parents died, in a housefire. We lived in Nebraska, very close to the Morgan family. I was friends with Matthew, Cammie's dad, and they'd offered to take me in. But the government wouldn't allow that. They sent two big men in black suits to his parent's door and they told me that I had to come with them. This was the start of 7th grade."</p><p>The sun was just starting to rise, but the air had a chill in it that had nothing to do with the cold. " What I didn't know was that my parents worked for interpool. They never told me. But they took me anyway." He looked at me. "Blackthorne is one hell of a place. You know how it is." And I did. " Blackthorne teaches you how to be numb. How to not feel. But after the death of my parents, and the removal of myself from more people I cared about, I was already numb." </p><p>He looked at me. " Like you, I excelled at covert operations and I was the best shot in the class." He sighed. "The difference between you and I was that you weren't a mean person." he gave a little laugh. "I was mean. I let Blackthorne get to me. But a kid shouldn't have to deal with that."</p><p>I nodded, but he went on not noticing. "I brought you there, because I was afraid. And ashamed of myself, about how I used you as a pawn in my plan to take down the circle. So you see, it's not your fault that Matthew died. It's mine."</p><p>I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak, but Joe wasn't finished. " I joined the circle when I was sixteen. To me, it was the coolest thing. There were people who wanted me, thought that I was important, special even. I had been trained to kill, and that was my job in the circle. To silence those who dared speak up. I had this journal, and I started writing down everything in it. As I rose in ranks in the circle, I convinced people to tell me everything they knew and if they wouldn't then I'd spy on them. Screen their phone calls, read their emails. Look through their most private possessions and follow them to their secret meetings."</p><p>"When I got older, Matthew joined the CIA as well, and even without Blackthrone training he was good. He was the first to figure out that I was in the circle. I didn't realize until he confronted me about it. But he was understanding and we promised each other, a boy's promise, to take down the circle, even if it killed us."</p><p>"How naive we were back then" He said with a roll of his eyes. "Sometimes it's more dangerous to make a promise you know you'll keep."</p><p>He looked so sad then, his face looking towards the ground as we ran. "It wasn't until after he died when I found his journal. I'd never been able to finish what we started." He looked out towards the lake we'd circled around, the sun rising filling the sky with red and orange streaks. His jaw hardened as he said "But I'm not dead yet."</p><p>We ran back towards the cabin, it was a five mile jog, similar to that of Blackthorne. But we weren't done yet. Joe took me to a tree with two strong, outstretched limbs that we used as a pull up bar. I swear, Joe doesn't get out of breath, like <em>ever. </em>He continued talking.</p><p>"Zach. Promise me something" </p><p>I raised my eyebrows. "I think we just found out that promises in our occupation can lead to some very bad things happening."</p><p>"Please Zach."</p><p>"Okay I'm listening."</p><p>"The notebooks, mine and Matthew's, are in two different spots. It is imperative that Cammie gets Matthew's journal. It's the only way she'll understand, that she could <em>ever </em>understand. Got it?"</p><p>"Okay." I told him. "Where is it?"</p><p>"Sub-level two of the Gallagher Academy."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>"One more thing." He said "If we ever get into a tough spot, I need you to get my journal. It's located in the tombs."</p><p>"At Blackthorne?"</p><p>"Yes. You still remember how to get there?"</p><p>I looked at him, hurt. "Of course I do."</p><p>He laughs. "Good. You haven't disappointed me yet. The book is in a small ventilation shaft. You have to reach into the VERY back."</p><p>"Got it."</p><p>We walked back inside to have breakfast, some cereal with a bowl of fruit on the side. </p><p>That was the last good day for a very long time.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Authors note: Hey guys! I hope you're doing well! Thank you for all of the comments and kudos it means a lot to me :D</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Zach." Said Joe. We were sitting at the hand-carved wooden table in his cabin. I was tracing the lines of the wood with my finger and Joe was reading a paper. Everything was quiet in the lake house.</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"I'm going to have to go away soon."</p><p>I looked up at him in surprise. "But the circle?" </p><p>"Which is precisely why I have to go."</p><p>"But I thought we were 'In this together.'" I said. "What happened to-"</p><p>Joe holds up his hands, silencing me. "Zach. I am only going to be gone a few days. This is just a personal errand, for the CIA. Do you really want to go there?"</p><p>"Oh." I said, looking down at the table. "Alright."</p><p>"There's food in the pantry."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>"And I'll leave some burner phones and money."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>He stands up, flinging his newspaper on the table. "I'll need you to meet me in D.C on Christmas. Think you can manage?"</p><p>"Of course I can."</p><p>He smiles. "When did you get so grown up?"</p><p>Before Joe leaves, he turns to me "Oh and Zach, don't run off again. It wouldn't be smart for the either of us." He closed the heavy wooden door carefully and I watched him disappear through the trees. I was stuck in that cabin, with nothing to do, the days stretching before me. I read, a lot. Joe had a lot of poetry books and classics on his bookshelf. </p><p>
  <em>Dear Cammie,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey. It's me again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So you probably have a lot of questions.  Me too. I'm sorry about what happened to your aunt... I wish I could have stopped them. I should have been the one to take that bullet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm not sure if you've guessed the truth about me yet. Or, if you have then you've probably realized that it's not apart of who I am anymore. Or, perhaps, I'm just a reaction to it. I really don't know. I wish I did. Sometimes you ask me questions, that I want so badly to answer, but I can't. I can't bring myself to tell you how I feel. Why I feel that way. What I was doing and why I was doing it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because, in truth, it's all because of you.</em>
</p><p><em>There's this poem that I found in Joe's bookshelf by Christopher Pointedexter that goes '</em> <em>I watched a girl in a sundress kiss another girl on a park bench, and just as the sunlight spilled perfectly onto both of their hair, I thought to myself: How bravely beautiful it is, that sometimes, the sea wants the city, even when it has been told its entire life it was meant for the shore.'</em></p><p>
  <em>My whole life, I've been told I was meant to be like my mother. To be apart of the Circle of Cavan and destroy every bit of democracy I could find. But I don't want that. I want to be good. I want to be brave. I want to be strong.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want to be like you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-z</em>
</p><p>I folded up this letter and stuffed it into a page of my journal. </p><p>The sky outside was turning a murky sort of gray, the snow steadily piling into what appeared to be 3 feet. The lake was freezing over, and there was no sign of life outside of the cabin. </p><p> </p><p>There wasn't much inside of it either.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>AUTHORS NOTE: What do you guys think of a series that featured Macey's life before the Gallagher Academy? Around 3 books. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>What about one that featured Catherines time at the Gallagher Academy?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Or Solomons time at Blackthore?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Or Josh's POV</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Prestons POV?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Full story of Cammie leaving?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>LMK!</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Christmas eve, the snow settling on the ground like a blanket. Icicles hung from the trees and the lake was completely frozen over. It just felt like Christmas. It <em>looked </em> like Christmas. Hell, there might have been a sense of Christmas cheer in the air...if I wasn't there all alone. I had been looming around the cabin the past couple of days, not being able to do anything, not being able to <em>think. </em> I just worked out until my brain was senseless and I couldn't feel my toes anymore and then slept. </p><p>Boy I slept a lot. The months of exhaustion and fatigue had finally caught up to me. </p><p>At least, that's what I told myself.</p><p>It was finally time to go and meet Joe in D.C.</p><p>I didn't have to ask where we were going to meet. It was obvious. </p><p>Because there's no place like home.</p><p>I found myself replaying the events from almost a year ago... <em>could it have really been a year ago?</em></p><p>I looked at myself in the silver of the elevator, and noticed I looked different. I was taller, more rugged. I carried myself differently, and most of the fire was gone from my eyes. It was replaced with... light. </p><p>The ruby red slippers were sparkling in the light of the atrium, but Joe wasn't anywhere in sight. </p><p>There's this point before worrying, when your brain tries to make up reasons why you shouldn't be worried.</p><p>But you should always be worried.</p><p>"<em>He's probably just late" </em></p><p>
  <em>"Nothing bad could have happened"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh my god what if something bad happened"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm going to kill Joe for not taking me with him"</em>
</p><p>I waited there for hours, hiding in the shadows I hid in when I tailed Cammie. But Joe never showed.</p><p>Admitting defeat, I finally went back to the Cabin. But something was off. The chair wasn't where I left it, the door handle still felt warm.</p><p>Someone had definitely been here. </p><p>I walked around, cautiously, looking for any sign of life, but whoever they were was gone. I checked the pantry and it was restocked, full of food.</p><p>
  <em>Joe was here.</em>
</p><p>I looked around the Cabin again, and in the bookshelf, stuffed between two books, was a note. </p><p>
  <em>To my son,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am sorry I was delayed in meeting you, but due to the present circumstances I had to go and meet your sisters. We were playing detective. They have me running around in circles, and it's all caught up to me now. We were playing a game of tag with your uncle, and he lost. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'd have you come and visit, but it's snowing too hard and I don't want you to be too toasty in your winter coat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll see you soon kiddo.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I reread the letter, trying to make sense of it. <em>Where was I not supposed to go? I don't have any sis-</em></p><p>"We are the sisters of Gillian" I said aloud. "Cammie... and Cammie is with Bex." Okay that made sense. He wanted me to go to London. But why?</p><p>"They have me running around in circles... obviously the Circle of Cavan, and... it's caught up to him" I freeze in horror when I realize what he was trying to say.</p><p>The guy they caught started talking.</p><p>And he's bring Joe down with him.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cammie and Bex weren't hard to find. The CIA sent agents to keep track of Cammie during her 'vacation'. The bad news is, the circle has moles everywhere. </p><p>It was a cold winter day, New Years, and it seemed like a new beginning. </p><p>But something told me the real trouble hadn't even started yet. I was in London, right next to the tower where they had created an ice-rink where the moat used to be.</p><p>I stood there for a bit, observing them. Bex and Cammie appeared to be in a deep disagreement. Suddenly, Bex locks eyes with me and gives a small, mischievous smile. And then she did something I've never seen her do before. </p><p>She tripped.</p><p>Naturally every guy within thirty feet rushed to her aid, but I stayed still, my eyes on Cammie.  Fluffy white snowflakes were floating through the night sky that stood between me and the girl who I swore to protect. I placed my hands in my pockets and said "Happy New Year, Gallagher Girl."</p><p>Her face was devoid of emotion, but she still skated over to me. She looked me up and down, her dirty blond hair falling over her face, her nose red from the cold.</p><p>"You look cold" she told me, and I smiled.</p><p>"I used to have a warmer jacket, but then I gave it to some girl." I told her</p><p>"That wasn't very smart."</p><p>"No." I smirked and shook my head. "It probably wasn't." I inched closer to her, smiling. "Besides, it looked better on you"</p><p>She blushed a deep shade of cherry, looking towards the ground with a smile on her face. </p><p>"Why do I get the feeling you aren't here on vacation?" she asked. I slid my hand on the rail, inching closer and closer to see if she would take it. </p><p>"I'm looking for Joe Solomon." I glanced around the Tower grounds. "Thought maybe he was with you?"</p><p>But Cammie looked surprised. She glanced this way and that before saying  "What's wrong?" </p><p>My heart sank, she didn't know. Joe Solomon was about to do something either extremely reckless, or extremely stupid, or both. In all likelihood it's probably both. </p><p>But Cammie wasn't stupid. I could see the wheels turning in her head, imaging a dozen different scenarios. I thought about how much easier it would be to love her if we were both normal kids. But normal has never applied to us.</p><p>"Nothing, Gallagher Girl. It's probably noth-" I started, but she cut me off.</p><p>"Tell me or I'll yell for Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, and you can find out how Bex became Bex."</p><p>I kicked the hard-packed snow gathered at the edge of the rink.</p><p>"We were supposed to meet up a few days ago, but he didn't show." I stared at her, trying to see if she was lying. Trying to convey the importance of this.</p><p>"And he didn't call."</p><p>Even I couldn't hide the fact that I was scared in my voice.</p><p>I felt cold for the first time in the ice.</p><p>"He's not on my protection detail." She told me.</p><p>"Your mom's off looking for leads on the Circle, right?" I asked. "Could he be with her?"</p><p>"I don't know," she said, "I guess so, but . . . I don't know."</p><p>"Has he checked in with the Baxters?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"Has he -"</p><p>"No one ever tells me anything, remember?" she searched my face, a small smirk on her face.</p><p>"Being out of the loop isn't fun, is it?" I asked her.</p><p>"Rebecca!" Bex's mother's voice echoed through the cold air.</p><p>"You've got to go," I said with a nod in the Baxter's direction.</p><p>"If Mr. Solomon is missing call-ins, then we have to look for him. We've got to tell Bex's Parents . . . we've got to call my mom so she can -"</p><p>"No," I snapped, then shook my head and forced a smile. "It's probably nothing, Gallagher Girl. Go on. Have fun," I said. She deserved the rest of her winter break.</p><p>"Cameron," Bex's father called. "Say good-bye to the young man now."</p><p>"We've got to tell them, Zach. It Mr. Solomon is missing . . ."</p><p>"They'd know,"I reminded her, almost snapping.Then my voice softened. "Whatever is going on, I promise you they know a whole lot more than me do.</p><p>I eased away from the rail while, behind us, Mr. Baxter's voice grew louder. "Let's go, Cammie!</p><p>She looked over her shoulder at her best friend's father, her mother, and the guards that had surrounded her for weeks. "I'll be right there!"</p><p>But when she turned back to the rail, I was already gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>AUTHORS NOTE: I AM SO SORRY... SCHOOL'S JUST STARTED AND ITS KICKING MY ASS. ALSO IM TRYING TO GET SOME OF MY POETRY PUBLISHED SO... YEAH. SORRY.</strong>
</p><p>Joe was near, I could feel it. And it was only a matter of time before <em>they </em>knew it too. But Joe wasn't stupid. He wouldn't risk his cover, he'd just check on her and go right?</p><p>I tailed Cammie through those busy London streets, traffic in all directions. The london fog made the streets seem dark even if it was still mid afternoon. </p><p>When they stopped I watched Cammie, who started to take off her hat and gloves, her face simultaneously green and red at the same time. Mr. Baxter grabbed her shoulder, and Cammie shook her head as Mr. Baxter flinched. Every pair of eyes in the group darted up towards the tower, towards a woman with a green backpack, who was yelling something seemingly at no one. Her cup fell out of her hand as her eyes darted back and forth looking for something.. for someone. And that's how I knew something was wrong. </p><p>The lights in the tower went out, Mr. Baxter dragging Cammie along. I knew Joe had to be there, of course he would be there. I ran inside, my eyes darting around, but I saw no familiar faces. I heard a voice in my ear.</p><p>"Zach. get out of here. Meet me at the place where we went to get ice cream when you were seven."</p><p>I thought of that hot day, eight years ago when I had cried and begged for an ice cream and Joe finally broke and got it for me. I whipped around to face him, but he wasn't there.</p><p>"J-" I started but I felt a shove on my back, and I started running.</p><p>The ice cream parlor was cool, and there was a scent of strawberry lingering in the air. As any good pavement artist knows, in order to blend in one must act the way others in the vicinity do. So I bought an ice cream and I waited.</p><p>And I waited for hours, Joe only showing up when it was about to close, the streets dark and sinister. His hair was soaking wet and he looked exhausted.</p><p>"J-"</p><p>"Not now. We need to go. It was foolish for you to come looking for me." He said.</p><p>"But J-"</p><p>"Not now! We have to get out of here. You know how many people are looking for me? How many people that would love to get their hands on you?" He looked at me in the eyes, but I couldn't meet them. I felt... stupid. "Let's get out of here." He said, softer this time.</p><p>We walked for a bit, our footsteps echoing through alleyways, out of sight from any cameras. Joe was on red-alert, but he seemed so tired that he could barely stand. We finally made it to a side street with a discreet door that Joe opened with a key.</p><p>"Come," he said "we'll be safe here."</p><p>I walked into the room that was pitch black, almost tripping over the table that was near the door. </p><p>"Hold on" Said Joe, as he walked without disturbing anything in the room, lighting candles. The room shone, a dimly lit glow, and I marveled at the simplicity of it. Most places I'd been in had at least <em>one </em>security camera, tucked away somewhere. Definitely some sort of alarm system. But the beauty of this safe house is that it was completely on it's own, tucked away in a forgotten neighborhood, in the middle of nowhere. </p><p>"So are you going to tell me what happened?" I asked him, but Joe was shaking.<br/><br/>"Joe?" I asked, concerned. "Joe?"</p><p>He gave a cough. "In the morning. In the morning." </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Authors note: I can't believe I haven't updated for nine days. Senior year's been hetic and I'd like to thank all of you for dealing with me being a shitty uploader :D I wish you all well.</strong> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I woke up to a cold breeze drifting through the desolate room, the early morning sunrise streaming through the cracks of the boarded-up windows. Something was off, I could feel it, or the lack of it.</p>
<p>Why wasn't Joe up? </p>
<p> When we were in the cabin together, he would never let me forget my drills. He would already be scouting the area, making breakfast, or just sitting at a window drinking coffee, planning what to do next. </p>
<p> I sat up abruptly, feeling the rush of blood to my head and I immediately got dizzy. I leaned to the side with one hand, breathing shallowly. When I finally stopped feeling light-headed I looked around until my eyes fell on a mass huddled in a corner, shaking in a pile of his own sickness.</p>
<p>"Joe?" I said, running up to him, but taking care to stand a little bit away. The stench was awful, especially up close. Joe's hands were clenched tightly around his stomach, but the bile on the floor seemed to be a few hours old. I lifted him up and lugged him to the bathroom. </p>
<p>The bathroom was its own beast, black mold climbing up the walls, the taps rusty from not being used for years. I tried one, but it was no use. There was no water coming out of it. </p>
<p> I cast a look at him, almost afraid to leave him alone here. But I had no choice. He couldn't go out looking like that, hell, he couldn't go out at all. 'I'll be right back" I told him, rushing out of the bathroom. I put on my black jacket and walked towards the closest stores. </p>
<p> I bought a few gallons of water, new clothes, and clippers. I thanked the man and walked off back to the safe house. Joe was starting to become lucid... if you could call disjointed mumbles 'aware'. </p>
<p> I stripped Joe down to his underwear and poured the gallon of water all over him. His eyes fluttered open.</p>
<p>"Zach?" He said and then closed his eyes again. I watched him cough. "My..." he trailed off.</p>
<p>"Yes?" I said, watching him. </p>
<p>"My mouth tastes like shit."</p>
<p> I burst out laughing, and he manages a weak chuckle of his own. <br/>"Yeah, well." I said "Maybe next time dry off properly after you go swimming in the English Channel"</p>
<p> "I'll keep that in mind" he rolled to his side and his face immediately turned green. </p>
<p> "Oh," He said, "not good." he dry heaved a few times, but there was no food left in his system. I felt his head and it almost scorching against my fingertips. </p>
<p> "Joe, you have a fever," I said, remembering the last time I was sick, not too long ago. I wondered who joe would have called if I wasn't there. I wondered if he had an Abigail. I wondered if he had a Cammie. "I'm going to need to get you some medicine," I said. But he grabbed my arm. </p>
<p> "No." he told me sternly "I'll be fine."</p>
<p>"Joe if you didn't have a fever I would be more inclined to believe you. Now come on, get into these clean clothes." He grunted as he sat up, his fingers clenching the sides of the bathtub for support.</p>
<p>"Zach, I mean it. Don't. We need to minimize exposure." He looked at me in the eyes, his own riddled with obvious exhaustion. "Promise me."</p>
<p>I nodded my consent. "I promise." I said, helping him into the black sweats and white tee I bought for him. </p>
<p>"So what's the plan?" I said, opening two cans of chicken noodle soup and coaxing a small fire into the fireplace. The previous owners had very conveniently left a small black pot right next to the fireplace, which I washed out and then poured our soup in.</p>
<p>"We have to get out of here, but I'm in no condition to go anywhere." He tells me.</p>
<p>"Okay, so we camp out here for a few days and then-" but I'm interrupted. </p>
<p>"No." He said. "You can't stay. I have to, you don't. You have to go back to the states, go to Roseville, and keep an eye on Cammie. On the school."</p>
<p>"Come on Joe." I said, " I can't just leave you." I shook my head. "I got sick, back in November. It took me an entire week to be able to do <em>anything </em>for myself. I wouldn't have lived if I didn't have help."</p>
<p>"Zachary Goode. Are you forgetting who you're talking to?" He snapped. "You know me better than anyone... alive. I will be fine." I knew he was talking about Matthew. </p>
<p>"I can't take that risk. " I told him. </p>
<p>"Zach. There are many things I have to tell you, but so little time. But trust me when I say I need you to leave. It's for your own good."</p>
<p>He stared at me and I stared back. Neither of us backing down, until I finally look away, defeated.</p>
<p>"What do you need me to do?" I asked. I handed him a bowl of soup and he brought the spoon to his lips, his hand shaking. He sighed.</p>
<p>"I'd have to start at the beginning. When I first went to Blackthorne, after my parents died, the director in charge of the student's well-being there was called Dr. Hemlock. Well, Dr. Hemlock told me to write in a journal, everything that was going on. The same one I told you about at the cabin. I need you to bring Cammie there if or when I get captured by the circle. Or the CIA. But not until then."</p>
<p>I nodded. "Anything else?" I said.</p>
<p>"I need you to break into the Gallagher Academy."</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The plan was simple really, and I had a home-court advantage. But something about the Gallagher Academy made me uneasy, especially when it had been almost a year since I last walked past those ivy-covered walls. On the long plane ride back to Roseville I thought about what I knew.</p><p>Joe had rigged the sublevels to explode if anyone went into them, therefore ensuring the safety of the book. It did not, however, ensure the safety of the one who was to receive the book. Which was good, because the circle has moles <em>everywhere. </em>But it was also bad because Cammie needed to read it. <br/><br/>Joe had left me pretty clear instructions on what to do. I was to sneak into the Gallagher Academy (that part was up to me) and steal a pigeon. Not just any pigeon, no. This pigeon was special. </p><p>Unbeknownst to even some of the sisters of Gillian, the Gallagher Academy was once home to one of the grandest courier pigeon operations in the entire world. I had to sneak in and get one of those pigeons. </p><p>When I landed in Roseville, I didn't waste time. As I walked off the airfield into the setting sun I felt confident. I had a place to be and things to do and I wouldn't let Joe down. </p><p>I stood outside of the Gallagher Academy for a while just watching and waiting for nothing in particular. The snow piled knee-deep on the ground, my black clothes contrasting with the white snow, making me stick out like a sore thumb. I was casing the area, but the area didn't need casing. I knew the school like the back of my hand, how the cameras swept at a precise 90-second interval, the time in which the guards rotated, even where the trap doors opened up to swallow you whole in the ground. I even knew how I'd get in. There was a maintenance tunnel leading from the school to the guard tower. It would have been easy. <br/><br/>But something made me wait outside of those walls. </p><p>I was afraid.</p><p>Now, spies don't normally get the luxury of fear, but this was an exception. Every spy somewhat belongs in whatever place they go to. It's apart of their job description, to blend in. They adapt to their customs, learn the language, even get a whole new look.  But no part of me belonged amongst the beauty and treasure of the Gallagher Academy. </p><p>"<em>it's now or never" </em>I told myself as I eyed the guards changing positions. I walked through the shadows, and went up really close to the wall, pushing into a brick in the center of it. It opened up a trap door and I fell down it, into the chambers below.</p><p>It was dark. Like, can't-see-the-spider-until-its-in-your-face dark. </p><p>"<em>Why didn't I pack a flashlight?" </em>I berated myself. I pat my pockets down for anything and came across a small package of matches. Ten in all. I had to be conservative with my light.</p><p>I lit one, watching it come to its short life in the dark, sending shadows against the old stone walls. But what I saw down there made me jump, almost scream.</p><p>The entire place was crawling with spiders. Everywhere. The biggest spiders you'd ever seen. I took a deep breath and took three steps before my match went out. I was tempted to light another one, but it was a long tunnel and I only had nine left. <br/><br/>Every small brush against my skin made me want to yell out in fear. I took small tentative steps, my hoodie pulled up over my bowed head, my hands in my pockets. After twenty steps something told me to light another match.</p><p>So I did and came face to face with a giant web, one of the cone ones that look like spun sugar at a state fair. But this was no carnival. It took up the entire passage and there was no way around it. My match sputtered out and I was left there in the dark, contemplating my next move. I could turn back, but spies don't back down from their missions. And Joe was counting on me to get this right. </p><p>I counted backward from ten. 10...9...8...7...6..5...4...3...2...1...</p><p>And then I ran straight towards it, felling the spider's dash all over the place, all over <em>me, </em>looking for a place to sink their teeth. I throw myself on the ground as if I were on fire, trying to get them all off of me. I'm shrieking like a mad man, entangled in the remnants of the web. </p><p>When I finally get the courage to stand, I light another match. The spiders are everywhere around me, all over the walls, hanging upside down from strands. They shy away from the match, not used to light in that dark cavern. I continue on my way, easing myself past the spiders.</p><p>After another minute I hear fluttering above me, and I feel a violent force brush against me, nailing me in the side. I struck another match, only six left, and see an entire colony of bats. They go insane at the sight of the light, shrieking and trying to knock into the source, effectively setting one of the bats on fire. I watched as it fell to the ground and twitched, the fire engulfing it until it was nothing more than a hard, black lump. </p><p>After another two minutes, I was finally back at the Gallagher Academy. Now for the hard part. The room I had stumbled into was as tall as the entire building, and I had to get to the top with no equipment. I grabbed at the vertical wall, the protruding stone offering little support. I heaved myself on to the narrow edges and started my ascent. The floor below me was solid stone, so falling would mean critical injury or death. I took it slow, one stone at a time, feeling the blisters form and pop against my hands, my muscles sore and strained from the effort. </p><p>I was around the third floor when I looked down. Rookie mistake. The height was almost dizzying, but I breathed in deeply and moved on, reaching for the stone above me. </p><p>It crumbled under my weight, pushing me back almost to the ground. I ripped a hole in my pants, catching myself just in the nick of time. I was breathing heavily, feeling the trickle of blood down my leg. I heaved myself up, finally to the ledge of a window on the top. I was panting, hanging from the ledge on my stomach, almost too tired to heave myself up. But I did it. </p><p>I eased myself through the glassless tower window, climbing into the one beside it, scattering a dozen pigeons.  Chalkboards lined the inner wall of the rampart, far away from the glassless windows that overlooked the grounds. The crates were stacked neatly to one side. A lone chair sat in the center of the floor, facing the blackboards, as if someone had spent hours in that place, trying to solve an impossible equation. It was scrawled with what looked like nonsense, gibberish, a child's crayon drawing. But I knew it for what it really was.</p><p>"<em>Joe" </em>I whispered.</p><p>I looked around the room, watching the lone pigeon that stayed on the window sill, even as I came in. I grabbed him and disappeared off into the night.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Authors note: I based this entire chapter off of this really aggressive spider that chased me out of my bathroom a few nights ago. </strong>
</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The stupid pigeon wouldn't stop moving. I could feel it fluttering in my jacket, pecking the life out of my stomach. I couldn't (and wouldn't) go back through that hell-hole of a maintenance tunnel, so I had to find an alternate way out. I decided to leave out of Cammie's favorite passageway, the one in the fireplace, but that would be tricky. I'd have to go through the main school, and there were guards on patrol now that they knew that Cammie was the target. </p><p>I crept down the old stairs, praying they wouldn't creak. If I got caught, who knows what would happen? As I made my way downstairs, I heard footsteps. I froze, quickly flattening myself against the staircase hoping I looked like shrubbery. The pigeon cooed and my eyes widened, but the figures chased after one as she stormed out the door. </p><p>It was Cammie.</p><p>She was obviously upset. It took everything in me to not run up to her and ask her how she was. How I could help. </p><p>But I didn't have enough self-control not to listen.</p><p>I followed quickly behind, darting as fast as I could dare down those dark halls. It was risky, I knew that. But when someone you love is hurting, you have no choice but to watch.</p><p>"Cammie!" Bex called, but she didn't stop until she was across the foyer and pushing against the heavy doors. I ran towards the fireplace and crept around the walls of the building at lightning speed. I didn't care who saw me at that point. I need to know what happened.<br/><br/>She didn't have a coat. The sky above was  heavy, dark, and gray as she crossed the field that stretched from the mansion to the woods.<br/><br/>"Cammie," Bex called again. Behind her, I saw Liz and Macey running closer.<br/><br/>"Cam, are you okay?" Liz called, and Cammie whirled around, her hair sticking to her face.<br/><br/>"No!" she shouted. "No! I'm not okay."<br/><br/>Her roommates stopped, frozen. They seemed afraid to get too close.<br/><br/>"We don't know what he meant by that," Liz said. "We don't know where he got his information or if his sources are secure. We don't know what that meant."<br/><br/>"No." She shook her head. "That's just it. We don't know anything. I know bombs and antidotes and how to say 'parakeet' in Portuguese, but I don't know where my father is buried."<br/><br/>Liz's eyes were red as they stared at Cammie. "Cammie, it's okay. It's going to be okay."<br/><br/>"Mr. Solomon killed my dad. Mr. Solomon . . ."</p><p>
  <em>"Oh my god. She thinks Solomon killed her dad. "</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Did he?"</em>
</p><p><em>"No." </em>I told myself."W<em>e killed her dad."</em><br/><br/>As she trailed off, Bex stepped closer. She reached for her, but she jerked away.<br/><br/>"They want me . . . alive." Tears started streaming down her face. She was shaking from both fear and cold. "They need me alive!" She screamed. "How am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to feel?"<br/><br/>"I know how you feel, Cam," Macey said.<br/><br/>"You don't -"<br/><br/>"Cammie!" I'll never forget the tone of Macey's voice in that moment. She seemed scared, but strong. Like she'd really lived in fear her whole life. She sounded like me. "Cam," she said slowly, moving toward her, "I know how it feels to be watched every second of every day. I know what it's like to trust fewer and fewer people until you feel like you are completely alone in the world. I know you think that the only things that are left in your life are the bad things. I know what you're feeling, Cam." She set her hands on Cammie's shoulders, their eyes connected."I know."<br/><br/>"He won't tell me where my mother is," she said softly. "Agent Townsend knows - he knows! And he won't -"<br/><br/>"We'll find her, Cam," Bex said, reaching for her. "We will."<br/><br/>"Yeah," Liz said, joining them.<br/><br/>"We'll track your mom down - track her to the end of the earth if we have to - and then we'll ask her . . ."<br/><br/>"Ask me what?"</p><p>Headmistress Morgan was standing behind Cammie. You could see the relief flood into her face as she embraced her mom. I turned around and darted back into the passageway and made my way off the grounds. <br/> </p>
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